


Strawberry Milk (and the Colours of the Rainbow)

by ratboyrussell



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, Holding Hands, M/M, One Shot, Rare Pairings, Sharing a Bed, don't expect a lot of fluff it's mostly angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29167017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratboyrussell/pseuds/ratboyrussell
Summary: The pink of strawberry milk, because Yamaguchi told Kageyama it tasted how love felt to him...
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	Strawberry Milk (and the Colours of the Rainbow)

**Author's Note:**

> saw someone call this ship strawberry milk once and i love it so much

They started with burning colours. Bright hues fluttering around them, the aura of love thick. So thick one might be able to reach out and touch it. To get an idea of how love should feel, because what they had was _love_. They flew together, under all shades of the rainbow. Soaring atop the clouds, not bothering to stop and look to the scene beneath them. Because love felt good, there was no point in looking downwards, down to what could be if it all went away. They were shrouded in colours and didn't need to remember the greys. 

Pink. Pink was a colour that showed itself often enough. The light blushing of Yamaguchi's cheeks. His freckles would ignite over the dusting of pink. The rose of chilled noses walking home in the cold evening after they'd had a long practice. The pink of fingers held tight together, so tight they changed to that flushed tone. The pink of strawberry milk, because Yamaguchi told Kageyama it tasted how love felt to him. 

Yamaguchi gave him strawberry milk every other day. He would hand it to Kageyama, blinding smile illuminating his features as he gifted the boy he loved most such a simple thing that made both of them feel like the only people in the world. Feel like the blueprint for love. 

Kageyama tried to understand. He drank strawberry milk over and over but he couldn't see how it tasted like love. His love just felt a little different, not quite a taste. His love was hugs, sweaty and exhausted. No one would expect him to be a hugger, but when he got close to Yamaguchi it was all he wanted to do. He loved hugging that boy, his boy. The feeling of both of them panting, their sweaty scents mixing together in a way that was near nauseating but almost comforting. The post-game thrill of a win or the pang of a loss, or just the feeling of practice being over. Tired and holding each other. 

They could both agree that love felt like walking home together, sneaking unseen into one or the other's bedroom and just holding each other. Melting into each other's arms, into each other's chests. Feeling each other in a tired and vulnerable state. That was love. It was colourful, even in the dark nights when holding each other was all they did. 

Love was supposed to stay pink. Strawberry milk and blushing cheeks and rosy noses and flushed fingers. 

Love was not supposed to be green. Green was Yamaguchi's hair which Kageyama would grip with greedy fingers. He would run his hands through it and press gruff kisses into that green-haired boy's forehead. Even his forehead had freckles. Green was supposed to stay there. 

There wasn't supposed to be the _sickening_ green of jealousy rooting itself in Kageyama's stomach. He would see all too much how Yamaguchi treated everyone. How kind and smiling and nearly giddy he was at the sight of his friends. Kageyama didn't understand. He wasn't like that, he didn't understand how Yamaguchi could be. 

Kageyama tried to let the green go, let it seep back into only being the hair of the boy he loved. But he couldn't shake the vines sprouting in his gut. He never missed the way Yamaguchi left little touches to Yachi's arms, he never missed the extravagant smiles flashed to Hinata across the court (they both really were little sunshines, Kageyama couldn't help but think), never missed the way Yamaguchi would always, without fail, run to Tsukishima after a game. Always Tsukishima. Kageyama was always second. 

How could he enjoy post-game hugs, the way love felt, when he knew it was always second for Yamaguchi? His love was one step behind, one thought after. How was he supposed to live like that? How was he supposed to love like that?

Blue was supposed to stay to Kageyama's own hair. Jet black but for the times the light hit it just right, making it shimmer in sapphire. His blueish locks which Yamaguchi loved to ruffle up, to leave a little mess for Kageyama to deal with. To smile to himself as he brushed out the little strands touched with so much love. Blue was supposed to be the night sky they looked up to on walks home, together. Blue could shroud their hands in an eerie light, but they would stay intertwined. 

Blue was supposed to be no more than that. But blue was what Kageyama felt. Blue was the gaping hole in his chest as he realized the green would never go away. But the green _had_ gone away. He no longer felt the revolts of jealousy, instead only the deepening blue of defeat. He couldn't compete. Yamaguchi was radiance and he couldn't be confined to one person. His love was too abstract, blurring the lines of platonic and romantic. 

And Kageyama couldn't take that. He needed to feel the divide. He had his divide, why couldn't Yamaguchi have his? Kageyama had a bold line between friendship and relationship. There were things he definitely wouldn't do with anyone but Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi had those too, but his list seemed to be shorter, his line thinner. 

The longer things went on the shorter the list seemed to get, the more the blue in Kageyama's heart changed to something else. Something worse. 

It was red. 

There had never been red in their relationship. Diluted pink was the object of their admiration, red seemed too direct. Too aggressive. Red could change in a second, from burning passion to fiery aggression. And that's what Kageyama found. He found aggression. 

It was after practice one day when he let his red show. Red like blood as he _bled_ his heart out to the boy who he had loved so dearly. 

He screamed and he yelled and demanded why he wasn't Yamaguchi's first choice. Why he seemed to care just the same as he cared about any other friend. Just, _why_? 

Clear crystal. That was a new one. The clear crystal of shimmering tears. They were both crying. Both begging to have their points heard as they screamed at each other in the empty gym. The gym that held so many amazing memories would now hold this. 

Yamaguchi told Kageyama he picked him. They were dating, weren't they? That was a choice. A showing that he willingly chose Kageyama and held him above everyone else. 

Kageyama couldn't understand why Yamaguchi couldn't make him feel that way. Why was he stuck with burning flames in his stomach and scorching tears in his eyes? Ones that sucked away the roiling blue, ones that burned away the green vines. Ones that had stolen away their pink. 

Fire burns down, blood runs dry. Once the red burned away, once the flames died down and the embers faded, they were left with grey. The world came full circle and they were left how they began, because grey was an average feeling. Everyone feels grey. They were enveloped in bright colours for long enough to forget it, long enough to think love can solve all problems. But when it was gone, when pink turned to green turned to blue turned to red turned to clear crystal, grey was all they had left. 

They ended it right there, in the gym that housed so much happiness over the last nearly three years, now tainted with this pain. 

Grey was an average feeling.


End file.
